


The fantastic no. 1

by ko_writes



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Mental Instability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 07:39:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5860084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ko_writes/pseuds/ko_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: the fantastic no. 1</p>
            </blockquote>





	The fantastic no. 1

   He wasn't what they said he was - not in the slightest.

   Douglas picked up the bottle, feeling its weight in his hand. Did he really want to do this?

   Yes. Yes he did.

   He didn't care about the consequences anymore, nothing really mattered. He was gone, Martin was gone, and shit had hit the fan.

   The cool glass lip of the bottle pressed against his own, not tipped enough to encourage the amber liquid to flow - a chance to put it down now, to walk away.

   He closed his eyes, a tear he refused to acknowledge streaking down his cheek.

   A change of heart - a blackout of sorts - and the smash of a bottle; the stench of alcohol seeping into the wall and permeating the air. His arm was extended from throwing the offending item away, and his heart beat faster than was healthy as he sank to the floor.

   The burn of the smell choked him, making him retch as he held himself up on his hands and knees.

   Why bother fighting? Why resist? Why can't he just throw it all away and coast through the rest of his life? He was sick of _caring_!

   He crawled, pulling himself along the wooden floor desperately, towards the kitchen. There was wine. Cooking wine, but alcohol nonetheless!

   No! No! He shouldn't do this! He should be strong! He was on top! He could do anything he wanted! The world was his!

   But it wasn't. It wasn't, and wasn't that hilarious! He'd had the world on a plate years ago, but it was _easy_ , he wanted _more_ , he played the game so well that he got lazy! Wasn't that funny?

   It wasn't, but it was!

   A laugh rose in his throat as he allowed his trembling limbs to give way, sprawling inelegantly on the floor.

   He'd had the world on a plate at Air England, but it was never enough! Give him more, sir! See the _starved_ body! Well, not starved at all; but the _hungry_ look in his eyes! He wants it! Needs it! Isn't that hilarious, sir!

   Indeed it is!

   He'd been found out in the end, _of course_! Hunger inevitably turned to greed; not for the material goods, but the game! The game was _interesting_!

   But he lost it all. He'd gotten fat and lazy from victory after victory, and he made a mistake.

   His one redemption was MJN. They loved him - loved _him_! And that was comical! Who'd love him, after all!

   Stop the comedian! It's too much! He's crying, because how _hysterical_ it was! He'd **_die_** laughing!

   _He_ didn't love him, oh no! Or, not in the way Douglas loved him. Loved that ridiculous ginger hair, those ludicrous freckles; he looked like a clown, like Douglas felt.

   How _priceless_! How the mighty fall!

   Tickets to the show! The sky God is crumbling before your very eyes! Isn't it _facetious_!

   He'd die laughing.


End file.
